The Rostenkowski Wolowitz Inheritance
by Laura Schiller
Summary: Bernadette's thoughts at the birth of her baby in season 10.


The Rostenkowski Wolowitz Inheritance

By Laura Schiller

Based on: The Big Bang Theory

Copyright: CBS

The first time Bernadette saw her newborn daughter in the nurse's arms, she thought: _Nine months of throwing up and getting fat, a whole night of torture, and at least eighteen years of anxiety - for this?_

The baby was not an angel, or a miracle, or any of the things newborn babies were supposed to be. It was a red, wrinkled blob with indiscernible features, no different from any of the younger siblings who had run her ragged when she was younger. She was a natural caregiver and knew it; under different circumstances, she might even have enjoyed it. But spending her teenage years stuck at home with an overprotective mother and five rambunctious children had left her with a highly volatile mix of feelings for anything weak and small.

She thought wistfully of her childhood dolls, which she could shut up in a cardboard box when she was tired of them. There would be no shutting up this baby. Bernadette was stuck with it for the rest of their lives.

 _Oh my God, I'm so screwed._

"Oh my God, I'm so happy!" Howard beamed all over his tear-streaked face. "She's beautiful. Can I hold her? Please?"

Bernadette pressed her lips shut so as not to cry, or say something mean, or both. She couldn't decide if she loved or envied his ordinary, healthy reaction; if she wanted to hug him or strangle him. She just prayed that, once she was no longer light-headed and worn out after hours of labor, her emotions would return to normal … at least, as normal as they ever got.

"Let's just clean her up first." The nurse, who must have heard new parents say those things a million times, smiled indulgently and crossed over to the sink at the other end of the room to wash the blood and other fluids off the baby. Howard followed at her heels, bouncing on tiptoe to peer over her shoulder.

"Hey, Bernie, she's got my eyes – and oh, thank goodness, that's your cute little nose and not mine. I think I see something of Ma around the cheekbones, though … but then again, all babies have chubby cheeks, don't they?"

He was about to say something else, but his voice was drowned out when the nurse lowered the baby into the water basin.

It screamed.

Not just the startled squeak it had let out with its first breath, or the nervous little sounds it had made while adjusting to the alien environment outside the womb. This was a deep, hoarse, full-throated roar of outrage that might have been heard through the whole hospital.

Howard swayed on his feet as if someone had punched him, and steadied himself against a cupboard. He began blinking very fast, as if fighting back a fresh round of tears. No wonder; if they believed in reincarnation, there would have been no doubt that this was Deborah Wolowitz come back to life.

"Whoa!" The nurse was shaken. She cleaned the baby off with a washcloth as fast as she could, wrapped it in a pink blanket, and dropped it into Howard's arms with visible relief. "Excuse me! Do you think – would it be all right if I ran some tests on the child's throat?" She had to shout to be heard.

Howard, still looking rather dazed, didn't answer. He rocked the baby in his arms and began whispering to it. Bernadette couldn't hear what he said, but judging by his face, it was something sweet.

"What kind of tests are you talking about?" Bernadette's own voice was hoarse after hours of screaming through the contractions (and cursing Howard in between them), but she could still make herself heard. "Are you saying there's something wrong with our baby?"

"Nothing that I can tell so far," the nurse replied, her eyes darting anxiously around at the new family. "But still, just to be on the safe side … no offense, but I've never heard a newborn sound like that in all of my career."

Whatever Howard was saying must have worked, or maybe being held had done the trick, because the baby was slowly calming down.

Bernadette wished with all her heart that she could borrow some of her husband's tenderness right now, but tenderness was the last thing she felt. What came boiling up from inside her heart like lava from a volcano was the same ferocious pride she always felt in the lab when holding a vial of medicine she had developed herself. Except that in this case, it was ten times stronger.

 _This is mine. I made it. I worked damn hard for it, and it's going to change the lives of everyone around me. And no one – no one – had better say a word against it, or I'll tear them apart._

"Your career can't have been that long, lady," she barked. "Run your stupid tests if you want, but you're not gonna find anything. I'll have you know that my daughter's voice is a direct inheritance from both our families. My late mother-in-law had it, I have it, and if you've got a problem with that, the door's over there!"

"Bernie!" said Howard, his attempt at a reproachful tone spoiled by his grin. It always gave him a thrill to hear Bernadette snap at someone, including him. "Sorry," he said to the offended nurse. "I'd blame hormones, but she's often like this. And I gotta say, there's nothing wrong with a healthy pair of lungs. Isn't that right, _sheyn maydele_?"

He brushed their daughter's cheek with one finger and she chuckled, a sound almost as uncanny as her scream.

"I'll fetch the doctor," said the nurse, making a visible effort to swallow what she had meant to say. Her scrubs billowed around her as she marched out of the room.

"Let me see." Bernadette held out her arms.

Howard handed the child over to her like a precious sculpture, or better yet, like one of his beloved machines. He kissed them both on the forehead and perched on the side of the bed, blue eyes glittering.

"She's going to turn out just like you, isn't she?" He tucked his arm around Bernadette, regardless of the fact that her hair was tangled and her hospital gown was soaked with sweat. "Strong as well as beautiful and smart. I can't believe how lucky I am."

"You realize you'll spend the rest of your life getting yelled at, don't you? It's not too late to back out."

Wisecracking was not a Rostenkowski habit; she had picked it up from Howard over the years. This time, however, she was only half joking. She did sometimes wonder how in the world he put up with her, let alone with such patience and humor.

"Are you kidding?" he whispered against her messy curls. "Yelling matches are the only sport we Wolowitzes are good at. Seriously though … I wouldn't miss this for the world."

Bernadette looked up at the bright eyes of her husband, then down at the sleepy eyes of their newborn daughter. He was right; they really were the same color. Something about holding that warm bundle of life in her arms that made her wonder if, perhaps, she wouldn't be such a bad mother after all. The biologist in her knew that these feelings were due to the bonding hormone oxytocin, but knowing that did nothing to diminish their impact.

"Hey, " she said. "I'm your mommy, and this is your daddy. You took a hell of a time getting here, but it's nice to finally meet you. When you get older, we're going to watch _Cinderella_ together, and I'm going to teach you how to cook – both on a stove and on a Bunsen burner. And I'm going to let you in on a little secret." She leaned down for a conspiratorial whisper into the baby's tiny ear. "You'll probably be short like us, so … if you're at eye level with a guy's crotch, that's where you punch."

Howard, who had heard every word as he was meant to, looked absurdly pleased.

"You tell her," he said. "Teenage boys are scumbags. I should know, I used to be one. Hold on a minute … oh my God."

He jumped up off the bed, panicking about their daughter's future dating life, and Bernadette could only smile and roll her eyes at the ceiling. This, she supposed, was one of the secrets to a successful marriage; only one of you got to freak out at a given time. They were like a set of scales that way, balancing each other out. Who knew how a third individual was going to affect that balance? She was nervous, but also curious to find out.

"Relax, Howie dear," she said. "Everything's going to be fine."


End file.
